Moonlit Nights and Yellow Eyes
by darcie-magicae-anima
Summary: Stiles is not willing to risk getting mauled by Scott again, so he goes to the only person he thinks can still help his best friend on the full moon. Finding Allison is one thing, convincing her second, and third involves Scott. But when he brought her over to help he didn't exactly expect to end up like this - half naked in his bed. For scotts-sexy-wolf-eyes.


He's been avoiding her house, because lets face it her dad is still shit scary - even if he is the good one of the family, and Stiles is stupid enough not to think to ask her at school. Which would have been awkward. Like _really_ awkward.

Hell, Stiles thinks, it's gonna be awkward anyway whether he likes it or not. And he's seen her around, but he hasn't talked to her, not since before the rave if he actually remembers. And after Gerard he certainly didn't have any incentive to go and be buddy buddy with her.

He thinks about backing out now, being a coward and getting Lydia to ask her, but Lydia would probably wack him over the head the next time he saw her for that. Scott's going to wack him over the head for this either way _at least_, so he opens the jeep door parked behind hers, and looks at her again in the dusky field.

He ignores the row of gravestones to his left, the ones with his invisible foot prints in from last year; and thinks that maybe he should visit more. Stiles feels bad, but the incoming awkward distracts him as he stops by Allison's side.

"Hi."

She glances at him with a blank face, then stares back at the gravestone put in just before summer started when she's disappeared off the face of the earth. "What do you want Stiles?

Her voice is soft, and Stiles looks at the headstone, conflicted at how he should approach this. Does he try to comfort her, or drag it out, or just jump into the deep end? Because lets face it, his experience on girls is close to a dead none in situations like this, excluding that singular Lydia moment when he'd screwed up and yelled at her anyway.

He wants to just get this over with but can feel the tug in his heart of the gravestone a few rows back, and remembers how he felt. "I'm sorry, about your mom."

"No you're not." She says back straight away, an edge to her tone and Stiles isn't sure if that's a glare or not. "You didn't even know her, so why should you care?"

"Okay," he allows, shuffling a little, "fair point, and honestly..." he cringes a little, hoping Allison won't slap him for this but he says it anyway before he can stop. "You're right I don't care," that does get a glare, "but you cared about her so that's all that really matters...right?"

She sighs stiffly, and her body shows it too and she asks again, "What do you want Stiles?"

"I um, kinda, need your help." Stiles says, trying to imagine any other possible way this train wreck could get any worse. It's like watching a car crash in slow motion, and this is beyond the level of awkward he was even expecting.

She glances at him again, this time holding his gaze. "Scott?"

He tries for a kind of smile, but can guess it doesn't work and just looks creepy. "Bingo."

She continues to stare and raises an eyebrow at him; then looks away. "I don't think so Stiles, sorry."

"But-but, you like, don't even know what it is?" He flails.

"Then what is it?"

"Full moon tonight, and like, no blame on your or anything" he scrambles, "but you kinda left him without an anchor."

"Anchor?" She asks, like she has an idea what but is still slightly puzzled.

"Like keeps him human," he explains, "you know, stops him from running round the woods half naked, growling, snapping, mauling family pets in the back garden. That sort of thing."

Allison scoffs at the explanation, but Stiles thinks he can actually hear a laugh in there. Maybe he's not doing as badly as he thought.

"I think he'll be fine," she says instead, "He didn't have me last month and-"

"You weren't here last month." She turns to look at him here, and seems to get something from the expression on his face. "Things went a_ bit_- which means shit hit the fan - haywire, and like," he sighs heavily in exasperation, "look Allison I know it's a lot to ask but I just like, really don't wanna potentially be murdered by my best friend again, and have to keep buying more chains and stealing by dad's handcuffs and...Please?"

She looks like she's stuck for a moment, and then another moment her face is scrunching up as she thinks. But she shakes her head and answers, "Sorry Stiles, it's not a good idea for me to get involved like that again."

She starts to walk away and Stiles backtracks thinking of anything because he seriously wasn't frickin' kidding he doesn't want Scott to try and murder him again. Like seriously. And he really doesn't know what he's thinking when he yells out, "Scott told me he's waiting for you. That he's giving you time."

She looks back at him, "That's none of your business." And Stiles does have to agree with that point a little bit, but Allison says, "And he shouldn't do that, like I said-"

"You can't get involved?" he guesses, and feels everything going inexplicably down hill from here. She nods, and he says, "Okay."

She nods again and carries on walking back to her car.

"But!"

"Oh my god Stiles!"

"I know I know, I'm annoying, I never give up, you want me to shut up blah blah blah. But!" he tries again, "what if you weren't getting involved in the way you think you're getting involved."

Allison frowns, looking perplexed. "...what?"

"You're a hunter, and technically if you help me control a teenage werewolf who you may or may not have had past relations with; that parts not important," he clarifies, "and keeps said teenage werewolf from mauling anyone in the night - specifically me, then technically you are fulfilling your hunter duties."

She gives him a dull look and intones flatly. "Technically."

"Exactly _technically_!"

She sighs, "When you're referring to hunter duties Stiles, that generally means the violent type of duties-"

"Hey! I'm not saying you can't get violent with Scotty, be my guest-"

"...not sitting around and awkwardly hugging someone until it tames their urge to kill."

They stare at each other blankly for a minute finishing at the same time, and Stiles crosses his fingers behind his back. "Please?" He asks hopefully.

She shakes her head, "Stiles..."

"Do you want me to die?! My dad Allison, think of my dad!"

She stares at him again, and says, "You owe me."

Stiles may or may not have flailed in joy.

xxxxxXxxxxx

"No okay, I change my mind."

"No!" Stiles yelps, backs up and grabs her arm. "My dad, remember my dad."

She glares at him, "Stop that."

"You want me to try something else, because that seems to be the only thing that's working." He hisses at her, one foot down the Stilinski's staircase, hand still grasping her forearm and Allison thinks about shaking him off - but doesn't. "Duties. Duties." he carries on.

"That's not working anymore than the first one," she snaps slightly back; ready to leave or stay she doesn't know, then hears footsteps on the landing and freezes.

"Stiles?" and she hears his voice, the one she's been avoiding in Washington the whole summer and the past two days in school. "Who are you talking to?"

"Um..." he says and she looks at Stiles, conveying a panicked message through her eyes though she's not sure what she trying to say, and internally she tries to pull her arm out of Stile's grasp, but outwardly she doesn't move. It's not like she scared; she honestly can't think of being scared of Scott, she just doesn't want to see him. Doesn't want to face him yet, because she isn't ready - but there's a part of her wriggling somewhere in that one moment with the conveying of the panic which wants her to stop. Maybe the part that's not letting her move her body even if she wants to on the inside, because she is ready in a way - just not for all of it; but she does miss him.

He comes in view of the staircase and Stiles is blabbering something at him, probably excuses and explanations but Allison can't really hear him over the wave of something; like maybe she does actually want to be here.

But doing as Stiles said, _her __**duty**__ as a hunter_, she reminds herself.

She looks at him, and says softly; almost sounding like a squeak. "Hey."

She can see him swallow, and he even smiles softly at her. She wishes, she really does - that she could do the same. "You're going to help?"

And sounds so hopeful, Allison can hear, and can't believe that things really got desperate enough on the full moons when she left. She can't quite answer, and nods her head.

"So your staying?" She turns her head at Stiles' prompt, and nods her confirmation.

No turning back now.

xxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxx

He looks the same but different, she thinks as Stiles is locking him against the rails of his bed and talking at him and to him at the same time. Scott's alternating, looking and listening to him and then glancing and watching her at the same time by the door every few seconds. His hairs shorter, only by a little bit and he looks even more mature, more grown up then when she left; Allison hopes there's some of his goofiness left in there somewhere. She loved his goofiness. _She loves, _the something seems to whisper.

She freezes again suddenly when Scott doesn't look away from her, and she sees Stiles looking at her as well; chains locked around Scott's waist.

"Um, what do you want me to...do?"

Scott opens his mouth, then looks to Stiles. He scoffs and rolls his eyes when both he and she realise that Stiles looks just as stumped as they are.

"You didn't think about that?" Scott says, and Allison can't tell if it's ribbing or playful; but she likes the way their friendship works. Always has since the beginning when she'd seen how close they were.

And she looks at Scott, she blushes as Stiles stutters - _"god knows I didn't think of that with the supplying of the chains, worry of impending death, the idea, and the very awkward convincing Allison in the first place. Jesus Scott really!"_ - Allison remembers thinking of trying out and experimenting with the more kinky stuff, and flushes even more red when she remembers the blindfold and handcuffs stuffed at the bottom of her wardrobe. Even with Stiles here the view looks like something out of a porno.

_At least there aren't whips_, Allison thinks, _Oh god, tell me Stiles hasn't got a whip to go with the chains._

She doesn't get to entertain the thought anymore, because like a silencing weapon which distracts all of them at the same time; the moonlight shines through the window on the wooden floor. A dulled misty white paints the panels, and Scott grunts, his eyes flashing yellow. They glow in the dusk, and she can see his canines sharpening underneath his lips, and she's still standing by the doorway - a strip of moonlight between her and the bed.

She doesn't know what to do with herself, it's awkward, more than she expected, but she feels split apart from them with the moonlight halfing the room in the centre. Allison doesn't like it. She wants to be on the same side as them, like maybe she'd be more trusted if she was near them; and not feel like an enemy split apart. Which was exactly what she was, wasn't she?

Werewolves vs. Hunters.

Forever.

The moonlight isn't on Scott, he's in the shadows of his bed but she can tell he can feel it; and Stiles jumps back with a yelp as Scott lashes out. He tumbles a little to the floor off the bed, and Allison surges forward, cutting across the moonlight split and forgets about her little crossbow hidden in her bag by the door.

She pulls him up, "Okay okay, avoid clawing distance. Got it." Stiles says, and it seems like he's trying to glare at Scott to make him feel bad, but it doesn't quite work as Scott whines a little in pain; canines protruding slowly from his gums. Allison can't understand how they're not bleeding.

She whacks Stiles on the arm, and mouths, _what the hell am I supposed to do this was your idea_ because she's helped Stiles up and now she doesn't know where to put herself again.

He's equally as unhelpful as the first time, and somehow, she doesn't even know, she's sat on Stiles' bed; rubbing Scott's knee. His yellow gaze tracks to her; seems to soften under her own. He stops trembling as much too, and Stiles goes; "Yes! That! Keep doing that!"

She reframes from glaring at him in annoyance, but then glares properly at Scott when she see's him stopping himself from laughing at her and Stiles. "That's not helping Scott." she tells him.

He manages to get a smile through this time with his elongated teeth at her, and she keeps rubbing his knee, running up his thigh. His teeth seems to get more manageable as she does this, and he gets out, "I like your hair, it's shorter."

She holds back a smile of her own and rolls her eyes, because hair is the most important topic of conversation right now. He grins at her again, then shifts his body to kick at Stiles' leg so he lands on the bed again.

"Don't bite me dog boy." he warns and Scott grins at him again.

Allison looks down, and remembers back to the first month she found out about werewolves, about Scott, when she wanted to be here for a full moon to help him; but never got the proper chance. This time it's different than she expected, with Stiles here, but then she doesn't know why it would be different than she'd expected, because of course Stiles would be here. She supposes it wouldn't be any other way really.

Scott nudges her leg, and looks at her imploringly. This time, this time she can smile. She moves up the bed to Scott's side, telling herself this is just to help him, nothing is happening after this and traces the chains around his bare waist. He seizes a little but stops straight away, like her being here, _her_ is fighting against the evil moonlight.

Stiles seems to nod at her approvingly, "I guess I just thought that you being in the room, like you're presence you know, would be enough." He shrugs minutely, "Guess not, but up, thanks for like going farther and..."

"Cuddling?"

He smirks, "Yeah, cuddling - Dude!" Stiles cries when Scott kicks at his leg again. "What?"

Scott seems to make a gesture for him to come closer, like she had, and the chains around Scott's waist rattle as she feels his arm come around her shoulder. He hovers a bit, and like before Allison doesn't know how, but she relaxes against his chest; her ear over his heart. And suddenly, it's not awkward at all.

Not with Scott with everything that's happened between them, the fights, the yelling, the arrows, the Gerard, it suddenly didn't seem to matter because she was here and she was helping him in the way she'd wanted to those months ago after the dance.

Not even with Stiles being here, who she guessed was her friend before that; but who she only really knew through Scott - obviously, sat at the right side of Scott's thigh. It wasn't even awkward with him, like all of her worries had vanished as Scott held her.

Stiles has moved closer, from his ankle to his thigh, but he's still shifty. Allison has always thought that was just the way he always was but she can see a difference now. His normal shifty is aloof and loose, but he looks tense here, like he's not comfortable in his own room. She realises Scott must see it too, _of course_ he can, because he whines and this time doesn't beat around the bush.

He doesn't kick Stiles' leg again, this time he catches him in-between both and tugs him forward and Allison's laughing as he falls face-first onto Scott's warm stomach.

"Move away and I'll claw you." Scott teases around his teeth, and Stiles glares but with a smirk, and he doesn't move away. He glances at Allison like he's going to ask her something but decides against it, though Scott seems to do the question for him. "Derek says" - she flinches a little at the name, hoping the boys don't notice, "that skin to skin contact helps with you know, stuff."

Allison looks at him, knowing that should probably make her uncomfortable, but it doesn't and it looks like for a second Scott doesn't realise what he's said; he seems so relaxed but then his eyes pop wide for a second. "I mean with, um, like. Control?" It ends out coming like a question.

Stiles is shaking his head on Scott's other side in disappointment, "You literally couldn't have said that any worse dude." He mutters.

She should feel uncomfortable, but she still doesn't and she smirks at both of them, adding for the heck of it at Stiles again, "You owe me one more."

And with that, she sits up around Scott's arms, and pulls her top off. She smirks at them both again and leans her head against Scott's chest once more, holding in a laugh at the sight of Stiles. He's giving her a deer-in-headlights type look, at the fact that, yeah, she has a boobs.

"It's called a bra Stiles." She teases and still doesn't understand how this can be so relaxed and so comfortable, because this, this feels almost right.

Almost. And Scott seems to be feeling the same way. He kisses the nape of her neck, tickles her with his breath and tugs Stiles down again to his hot skin.

"You're turn."

"Fuck off."

Scott and her laugh at the same time, and Allison just feels so happy. Giddy. Complete.

Almost - as soon as Stiles takes his T-shirt off.

He's still looking at them stubbornly, and she looks at Scott; his eyes are still yellow but his teeth don't seem as pronounced as before; since he can actually talk around them and he seems just as content as she does. He catches her eye, and she winks.

They move as one, laughing. Scott hooks his legs around Stiles again, pulling him down; Stiles yelps, and grabbles. Allison grabs he bottom of his shirt, pulling it over his arms. It's difficult at first, but the chains rattle and Scott's managed to get his arms on Stiles', his body pinned down with Scott's legs.

"Jesus, Stiles how many layers do you have?!"

They get them off, _eventually_, and Scott lets him up, but he doesn't get a word in edgeways as Allison pulls him down over her and Scott. She kisses Scott's collarbone, and he whines as he shifts in and out, the moon getting stronger. Allison's still laughing a little from grabbing Stiles, enjoying herself she doesn't really notice; only properly when he whines again as Stiles tries to prop himself up.

"Stiles please...it helps."

"You've got Allison here." He says softly, like he's reminding Scott - but Scott moans again.

"Both...here." He can't really talk now, teeth sharper and he lashes out at both of them.

"Stiles!" Allison yells and she can see he knows what she wants. What Scott wants, because it's Scott who needs the focus.

He scrambles further onto the bed, and they both hold Scott down keeping his claws in front of him, and away from them. He growls savagely, and Stiles elbows him sharply in the ribs as he tries to snap his teeth at Allison's shorter hair. And she watches him, rubbing herself against Scott and planting soft kisses over his heart, as Stiles closes his eyes and kisses long and hard over Scott's neck.

Her hearts pumping, and Allison doesn't know where he suddenly got the confidence to go anywhere near Scott's head - more specifically his mouth. Stiles rubs his hands against Scott's thigh over his sweatpants as he does it, and Allison gains the confidence _she_ needs, twists and captures his mouth in a soft kiss.

He stops thrashing, and she can't feel any teeth against her lips; only his wet ones as his hands stop straining and curve around each of them. She feels his claws nick the fabric of her bra, and she catches Stiles' eyes as they flutter open.

They're in similar positions, and Allison kisses Scott again softly once, keeping his best-friends eye, and pulls back as Stiles detaches himself from Scott's neck. She smiles softly at him, both of them, and chuckles as Stiles kicks his shoes off without any grace, and she has to catch his knee to stop him from tumbling off the side of the bed.

Scott's breathing heavily beside them and Allison kisses his heart again, letting him catch his breath; eyes the moonlight slowly slinking away from the window. She can tell by looking at them both no one feels like properly moving so they stay above the sheets - but once Stiles has finally got his shoes off he stretches down to the end of the bed and grabs an old quilt, keeping a long-fingered hand against the side of Scott's thigh and waist. He pulls it over all of them and Allison tucks her knees close to Scott's own, and stretches one leg out and pets Stiles through his jeans in slow soft motions. She can smell Scott's sweat, and what's left of his aftershave and the dirt from outside; and her perfume and the cinnamon scent she thinks is coming from Stiles.

Scott's calm now, like nothing else is going to happen so they all relax into the mattress, and Allison places one last kiss to his chest; smiles at the boy who came to her in the graveyard.

_Thank you_, her eyes say, _thank you for bringing me here._

She feels better than she has for a long time, and doesn't ever want to move from this moment; and just hopes that maybe...maybe Scott and Stiles need her for the next full moon.

And she thinks, with Scott's next words, they agree.

"Can we_ please _do this every full moon?"


End file.
